


(if) this is feeling merry

by snoopypez



Category: due South
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-10
Updated: 2014-10-10
Packaged: 2018-02-20 14:01:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2431448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snoopypez/pseuds/snoopypez
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a pause, Ray said, just to make things clear, "You're making cookies...for my mother."</p>
            </blockquote>





	(if) this is feeling merry

**Author's Note:**

> written for [due South Seekrit Santa](http://dsss.crocolanthus.com/archive/) 2008

It wasn't that Ray didn't _like_ Christmas. He just didn't think you had to spend every single second of every single day of December singing carols and skipping around in the snow. 

 

And granted, no one he was around was doing that, but he had the right to exaggerate. He was working what seemed like 40-hour _days_ on the stupidest cases and Frannie was hanging mistletoe all over the 2-7 and even _Welsh_ was in a pleasant mood. Someone had to step in and be the Grinch, right? 

 

So when he walked into Fraser's apartment one day and saw him and Kowalski kissing - yes, under some damn mistletoe - he may have overreacted. 

 

"Seriously? I've been out in the cold for hours, trying to find a guy who held up the _Dollar Store_ with a _candy_ gun - _without_ either of my partners, by the way - and you two are up here making out without me!?" 

 

Fraser and Kowalski were now staring at Ray, who was having trouble removing his hat and scarf because of all the yelling. But hey, he had their attention, so that was good. Maybe they'd show some sympathy, maybe they'd _comfort_ him, maybe--

 

"Was the candy gun from the store in question, Ray?" 

 

Silence. 

 

Even Kowalski seemed to know that wasn't the best thing to say; he shook his head in the _I can't believe this guy_ way both Rays were well-practiced in. There was another pause, then he literally leaped between the other two before Ray could speak. 

 

"Okay, you? Strip." He pointed at Ray, who blinked at him in surprise. "The wet coat? It's cold, Vecchio; you gotta warm up." His mouth quirked up as he added, "Actually, maybe you got that covered; maybe you should leave it on and cool off."

 

Annoyed that Kowalski was right, Ray grumbled under his breath the whole time he was taking off his coat, then his tie. It was only then that he noticed the smell. 

 

"Something burning?"

 

"Oh dear." Fraser's eyes widened and he dove for the oven, pulling out what looked like clumps of charcoal but were _probably_ supposed to be cookies. And even though Ray was still in a bad mood, especially since apparently Fraser - _Fraser!_ \- had been so caught up in Kowalski that he hadn't noticed the scent of burning food...well, Ray couldn't help but snicker.

 

"Well, that's ruined," Kowalski said succinctly. He and Ray walked over and Ray looked around the small kitchen area, seeing various jars and bags and things that equaled cooking. Things that he was pretty sure Fraser never had before around the apartment.

 

"You guys were baking?" he asked with some disbelief. He was about to get annoyed all over again and remind them that _he_ was off doing his _job_ and they were in a nice warm kitchen _baking_ , when Fraser answered. 

 

"For your mother, Ray." 

 

After a pause, Ray said, just to make things clear, "You're making cookies...for my mother." 

 

"Yes, well." Fraser took a breath and seemed to stand even straighter. "When I was a child, my mother felt it was her duty to--" He paused, thinking for a suitable or possibly cryptic word. "-- _Ingratiate_ herself with my grandmother. My father's mother, of course, and well, I've mentioned her before." 

 

Ray nodded with a sigh, resigned to a story. Yeah, Fraser had mentioned _her_ before. Attila the Grandma.

 

"She used a recipe she had gotten from one of my grandmother's friends; that way my mother was sure it would be liked. She thought the addition of bark was a little strange, but she never really got the appeal of the bark products." Fraser chuckled to himself, lost in memory for a moment, then cleared his throat and continued. "Of course, she misread the directions for the temperature and so they didn't really turn out, but we were able to rebuild the cabin somewhat quickly after the fire, and I'm sure in this case--"

 

Kowalski, leaning against the counter in that way that suggested he could melt right through it, finally cut in since it seemed that Fraser was in no hurry to get to the point. 

 

"We're sucking up." 

 

Ray was starting to think he'd never _not_ be confused. He didn't seem to be getting any actual answers.

 

"You see, as a sign of respect--"

 

"So she won't hate us for getting in your pants, Vecchio," Kowalski interrupted again. Fraser gave him one of those looks he had, the kind only those who really knew him could tell meant he was annoyed. He could only take so many interruptions. 

 

And Ray, well, Ray couldn't decide whether to be horrified at the very _idea_ of his ma knowing about them, or being really kind of - absurdly - touched. Luckily he didn't have the chance to react before Kowalski was pushing him over to the couch they had made Fraser get. 

 

"Either get out or sit," he said, his demanding tone softened by the kiss he pressed against Ray's lips. "We don't need you in the way." 

 

Ray scoffed. "Like I'd _bother_." 

 

Yeah, he was just fine with sitting there, relaxing and listening to Fraser and Kowalski working. About time, really, since he spent the whole damn day doing--wait, he mentioned that already. Twice. 

 

Anyway, he could rest, listen to the sounds of cupboards and the fridge and stirring and Kowalski swearing over grabbing the salt instead of the sugar and--

 

"You what?" Ray sat up, looked over the back of the couch. He didn't know if he was amused or not. "The bags don't even _look_ alike!"

 

"Shut up and ignore us." Kowalski pointed two fingers at Ray with a stubborn look. Fraser was throwing out the already-ruined batch of dough. 

 

Ray managed to do just that for a while. Then,

 

"Shit!"

 

"Ray, perhaps I should do that--"

 

"I know how to break an egg, Fraser!"

 

Ray sighed heavily, climbed to his feet and barged his way in. 

 

"You really wanna ruin much more? Kowalski, get the milk. Benny, do the eggs. I'll make sure you got all the right stuff." He wasn't exactly an expert cook or anything and it wasn't his favorite pastime, but anyone would be better than _this_. Who knew how that first burnt batch would have even tasted if it came out un-burnt?

 

Fraser had flour on his cheek and the apartment was warm and they all kept bumping into each other in the small room. It was nice, cozy in a way that made Ray finally forget about his bad day, all his complaints and the brief moment of feeling left out. Turned out it was stupid of him to feel that way; Fraser and Kowalski were thinking of him even when he was gone. 

 

And yeah, maybe that made Ray feel a little more in the spirit. Maybe he'd even sing. 

 

Well, probably not. 


End file.
